So why did I think I could have a week of good?
Ma took to her bed again,
But for once, she actually talked about it.
She said she had 'a turn', a moment on her own, when she thought she might actually be going to die.
And she was on her own.
She said she was so terrified, not of the thought of death, but of being alone when it happened.
It's rarely that Ma is on her own, and because she is still a very independant woman, even at the age of 85, my sister, her carer, the odd time will go out sometimes with her partner for an hour or two. Ma is the first to tell anyone how capable she is of looking after herself.
But Ma got what I think was an anxiety attack, she thought she was going to die, die all alone, and when sis didn't get home at the appointed time, this obviously escalated the situation. Poor Ma. And poor sis who had to take the brunt and handle the situation when she arrived home after one of her rare nights out.
She is frightened,
She is scared,
And my sister.
What a week.